Kill Me Once Read online

  Dana smiled, genuinely touched by the offer. ‘No, thanks. I appreciate it, but I’ve got a room over at the Hilton and that bed is calling out my name.’

  ‘Want a lift over there, then? It’ll save you the cab fare, at least.’

  Dana nodded. ‘That would be great. If I see one more taxicab or airplane today, I’m afraid I’ll probably end up killing somebody myself.’

  CK laughed and twirled his car keys around one thick finger. ‘In that case we’d better get you the hell out of here before your face winds up all over the eleven o’clock news.’

  On the tail end of his shift anyway, CK filed his report with the desk sergeant, updating the man on Bollinger’s credit-card purchase in Lorain and instructing the sergeant to call him at home as soon as word on the bloody clothes came back from the lab.

  They walked in silence through the long, winding halls in the sprawling metropolitan police station and to the parking lot where his personal vehicle was parked. Getting inside a white Ford minivan positively littered with toys, CK reached over and removed a stuffed Pikachu from the passenger seat before tossing it into the back where it made a high-pitched squeak on impact. He turned in his seat and smiled dolefully at her.

  ‘Pokemon this, Pokemon that. Soon as something new comes out, guess who’s got to buy it for them? Thank God for overtime, that’s all I’ve got to say.’

  When CK had dropped her off at the Hilton twenty minutes later, Dana checked in at the front desk and struggled to keep her eyes open while she rode the elevator up to the fourteenth floor. It was a losing battle the entire way. She should probably contact Brown and Templeton; fill them in. And Crawford – although what she’d say to him God alone knew. She was too tired to think straight.

  Finally letting herself into her room, she immediately collapsed onto the queen-sized bed nearest the door. Before she could gather the strength to change into her nightclothes, brush her teeth and wash her face, her body suddenly shut down hard, crashing her mind into a violent, dream-filled sleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  There truly was no place like home.

  Nathan pulled the bright floral curtains across a window that looked out nowhere, finally putting the finishing touches on his ultimate masterpiece.

  It was here that the ending of the story would be written, and not a moment too soon, either. He was itching to begin the most thrilling journey any human being could ever hope to experience, and he needed Dana Whitestone to send him on his way.

  He sat down in a comfortable leather chair over in the corner and used a solid gold cutter to snip the tip off a fresh Cuban cigar he’d been saving for the occasion. He waved the flame of his silver Zippo over the tobacco and squinted his eyes against the fragrant smoke that curled up into his face.

  Nathan leaned his head back and took a long, hard pull on the cigar before blowing five perfect smoke rings.

  Everything was almost perfect now. Just a few more details to attend to – just a few more loose ends to tie up – and all the pieces would finally be in place.

  The twenty acres of remote woodland in Cuyahoga County was the first major purchase he’d made with the money he’d received from the wrongful-death settlement. He could have purchased anything in the world he’d pleased at that point, of course, but he’d chosen this. It was the only thing that would do, really.

  Over the years, he’d carved the bunker out of the earth with his bare hands, a shovel and pickaxe his only tools. It was backbreaking work and extremely slow going for the most part – especially in the wintertime when the ground was frozen solid – but Nathan had kept at it like a madman, diligently working away until this day had finally arrived.

  Nathan looked around the room he’d put together from memory. A frilly single bed was covered with a Big Bird comforter and flanked by two small night tables. Tiny dresses hung in an earthen closet carved into the north wall. A small generator under a large wooden wardrobe powered a Wonder Woman night light plugged into a socket next to a comfortable blue beanbag. On a tripod-mounted magnetic easel three feet away, his name had been spelled out in colourful plastic letters.

  Sitting there on that comfortable leather chair underneath the frozen ground twenty miles west of Cleveland, Nathan Stiedowe took another hard pull on his cigar and let himself drift slowly back in time.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  It was truly amazing, the information one could obtain with simple press credentials. Doors locked down tighter than Fort Knox for the general public swung open as though with a magic key for journalists. Everyone was so goddamn terrified of bad press.

  It had taken Nathan less than a month after the murders of his wife and daughter to track his mother down. It had been ridiculously easy with his adoption papers in hand. Twenty minutes spent digging through the neatly organised files produced the information he was after.

  His real name.

  The name of his real mother.

  Standing alone between the stacks of metal filing cabinets as dusty sunlight filtered in through the grimy windows, Nathan held the thin sheet of paper in his trembling hands and stared down at his birth certificate for a very long time.

  Fifty bucks to a private investigator had provided him with the rest. His mother’s address in the West Park section of Cleveland was less than a ten-minute drive away from his apartment, and the short bio the PI had come up with let him know that Sara Whitestone was a lawyer now – and a highly respected one at that. Good for her. Married for six years to an electrical engineer – they’d had a baby daughter together a few years back. Apparently she’d decided to keep this one.

  The thieving little bitch who had stolen his life.

  He’d hoped initially to reconnect with his mother, maybe even start all over again. But as he watched them celebrate the Fourth of July from behind a stand of neatly landscaped bushes on the edge of their suburban property, Nathan knew he might as well have been dead to her.

  Unfortunately for slutty little Sara, there would be no reunion today after all.

  Only revenge.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Before Nathan went after their happy little family – what should have been his happy little family – his hands were shaking so violently that he could barely hold the gun. These murders would change his life for ever.

  It had been ridiculously easy to get in. He had walked right through the unlocked front door and quietly stationed himself in the little girl’s closet while she and her parents celebrated the Fourth of July in their backyard; completely oblivious to just how little time they had left on this Earth.

  Their mother loved his little sister very much, that much was clear. Nathan’s own miserable childhood had been nothing like that. Instead of the hugs and kisses and laughter she was now experiencing, he had been treated only to beatings, torture and abuse. Watching their happy lives unfold in front of his eyes had ripped the scabs off his very painful wounds and now they’d have to pay for it.

  Especially her.

  It was simple, really. He’d release his own terrible pain simply by transferring it onto this happy little family, what should have been his happy little family. It was only fair, after all. He’d already suffered in a prison of pain by himself for far too long.

  *

  He is standing between the frilly dresses and tiny sweaters in the little girl’s closet now, where he can hear her squeals of delight coming in through the open bedroom window. It is very dark inside the closet, but he can see clearly nonetheless.

  Moving his hand around to the back of his jeans, he feels the .22-calibre pistol tucked snugly into the waistband. The cold steel is a comfort but will only be used as a last resort. The long butcher’s knife he has taken from the wooden block on their kitchen counter is the true key that will unlock the horrible pain of his past.

  When they finally come back into the house half an hour later, completely unaware of his presence, the sounds of the television coming from the living room cause all the littl
e hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

  Don’t they care about him? Don’t they care about his pain?

  No, he decides finally. They don’t.

  It is something they will soon regret.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  In her dream, Dana is four years old again.

  It is the Fourth of July and she and her parents have just come back into the house after having enjoyed a wonderfully exciting holiday picnic in their backyard.

  Still all wound-up from being allowed to play Fairy Princess with a magic-wand sparkler, there is another hour of frantic play before the first signs of sleep begin to creep into the corners of her enormous blue eyes.

  She finally curls up in her father’s lap as he sits on the living-room couch watching the evening news on their cabinet-style television. As usual, her mother is at the kitchen table reviewing a large pile of legal briefs that she has brought home from work, periodically jotting down notes on the yellow legal pad at her side.

  As Dan Rather signs off for the night, Dana stretches her arms over her head and lets out a loud yawn.

  ‘Getting sleepy, honey bear?’ James Whitestone asked, lightly scratching his daughter’s back over her Barbie T-shirt.

  Dana nodded and yawned again. ‘Mmhmm. I think I’m ready for bed now, Daddy.’

  Hearing this declaration, Sara stood up, crossed into the living room and plucked Dana from her father’s lap. ‘Well then, let’s go brush your teeth and get you ready for bed, sleepyhead. Then I’ll tuck you in and read you a bedtime story. How does that sound?’

  ‘Sounds good, ’cept why do I gotta brush my teeth again? I brushed them this morning, remember? They’re still pretty clean.’

  Sara laughed and rapidly kissed the soft hollow of her daughter’s neck. ‘You have to brush them again, silly, so that the Cavity Creeps don’t invade Toothopolis while you’re sleeping tonight.’

  Dana squirmed in her mother’s arms. ‘OK, OK, already! Just stop that – you’re tickling me, Mommy!’

  When they’d finished up in the bathroom, they got Dana dressed in her pyjamas and into bed. Sara pulled back the Big Bird covers and gently tucked them in around her daughter’s small body. ‘What shall we read tonight, princess?’ she asked.

  Dana screwed up her face in concentration. Important decision here. ‘Hmm. How about we just do the story of Dana and the Three Friends again instead of reading from a book?’

  Sara smiled. It was their own personal version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Over time and with Dana’s considered input, the story changed slightly with each telling.

  Switching off the overhead light left only the soft yellow glow of Dana’s bedside lamp. Sara cleared her throat dramatically and began this night’s version of the tale.

  ‘Once upon a time there lived a delightful group of three friends, and their names were Mrs Lula, Mr Sunday and their precious baby – the wonderfully cute and adorable little Pano. They all lived together in a cosy little cottage in the forest and they enjoyed their peaceful lives there very much.’

  ‘Nope,’ Dana corrected. ‘That’s not right. They live in a gingerbread house in the forest now, Mommy. They moved last week.’

  Sara laughed and tickled her daughter’s belly. ‘Okay, smarty-pants, they moved last week. I think I can live with that. Anyway, the Three Friends all lived together in a cosy gingerbread house in the forest and they enjoyed their peaceful lives there very much.’

  The story progressed from there with the Three Friends deciding to take a walk in the forest to give their chocolate-cake breakfasts time to cool down. When they’d finally made it back home, Dana suggested they get James to do the voices.

  ‘He does them best,’ she said.

  James was summoned and took a seat next to his wife on the bed. Sara continued the story, leading him into his lines.

  ‘The Three Friends had just returned home,’ she prompted. ‘Pano could hardly wait to eat!’

  ‘What’s this?’ James asked in his Mr Sunday voice. ‘Somebody has been nibbling on my cake!’ Switching to his feminine Mrs Lula voice, he said, ‘And somebody has been nibbling on my cake, too!’ Finally, Pano’s high-pitched and deeply wounded voice. ‘And somebody’s been nibbling on my cake too, and they’ve eaten it all up!’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ the real Dana cut in. ‘Somebody’s in a shitload of trouble.’

  Sara slumped her shoulders, much too tired to correct her daughter’s language again. She glanced over at her husband and gave him a meaningful look before continuing. ‘Looking around the room, Mr Sunday noticed the chairs,’ she said.

  ‘Somebody has been sitting in my chair,’ James growled as Mr Sunday. ‘And somebody has been sitting in my chair as well!’ he offered in his Mrs Lula voice.

  ‘But it was Pano who was the most upset, the tears coming from his eyes.’

  ‘Somebody has been sitting in my chair, too, and they broke it all to pieces!’ James thundered. ‘This is complete and total bullshit!’

  ‘James Allen Whitestone!’ Sara cried out. ‘It’s no wonder she talks like a trucker!’

  James tried to choke out an apology but couldn’t do it through the waves of laughter racking his body. After several long moments he finally took a deep breath and wiped at his misty eyes. ‘Let me try that again,’ he said. ‘Somebody has been sitting in my chair and they broke it all to pieces.’

  Sara paused and looked at him expectantly. She knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

  ‘They broke my favourite chair, the inconsiderate little bastards,’ James muttered under his breath.

  Dana giggled happily, but Sara just ignored him. ‘Don’t listen to him, Dana. Don’t listen to a single thing he says. I don’t know why they ever let him out of the Bad Boys’ Home in the first place. I’m calling them first thing in the morning so they can come pick him up.’

  She stared at her husband for several measured beats before turning back to her daughter. ‘Now, where was I before we were so rudely interrupted?’

  ‘The Three Friends had just found out their chairs were all busted up,’ Dana answered helpfully.

  ‘Oh, yes. That’s right. Thank you, honey. The Three Friends did not know what they would find next, so they dashed upstairs lickety-split. Mr Sunday was the first to look into the bedroom.’

  Sara paused and looked over at her husband, who obediently took his place back in the story.

  ‘Somebody has been sleeping in my bed!’ James bellowed as Mr Sunday. Switching to his Mrs Lula voice, he added, ‘And somebody has been sleeping in my bed, too!’

  ‘Pano rubbed his eyes in disbelief.’

  ‘And somebody has been sleeping in my bed, and there she is now!’ James cried out.

  Dana’s big blue eyes went saucer-wide as she peeked out from beneath the covers.

  ‘Suddenly,’ Sara said, her voice taking on a sense of urgency now, ‘Dana opened her eyes and shrieked at the sight of the Three Friends glaring down at her. But the friends never had a chance to do anything to her, for Dana jumped out of bed, ran down the stairs and was out of the house in the blink of an eye.

  ‘Needless to say, the Three Friends never saw Dana near their cosy little gingerbread house in the forest ever again. And as for little Dana, well, let’s just say that she became a lot more careful in her future adventures.

  ‘The End,’ Sara pronounced.

  ‘Mommy?’ Dana asked quietly, slowly rubbing at her eyes with a tiny balled-up fist.

  ‘Yes, honey?’

  ‘Maybe tomorrow the Three Friends can call Dana up on the phone and ask her to come over to watch TV with them. That way they could be the Four Friends from now on.’

  She paused and looked up at her mother. The innocence in her big blue eyes nearly broke Sara Whitestone’s heart. ‘Don’t worry, Mommy. We’ll only watch PBS, I promise.’

  Sara smiled. ‘I think that would be just fine, but it’s time for bed now, my little princess.’

  She leaned forward and kissed
her daughter softly on the forehead. ‘Sweet dreams, my darling little baby girl. I love you with all my heart.’

  Somehow Dana managed to mumble her reply just a moment before promptly falling asleep.

  ‘I love you too, Mommy.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  He’d planned on killing them as soon as they’d all entered the little girl’s bedroom. But he stopped suddenly when the ridiculous bedtime story began. Let the mice have their fun.

  He almost laughed out loud at the thought.

  Three blind mice.

  When their moronic tale finally concluded, his mother thoughtfully closed the door behind them, leaving him alone with his sister for the first time in their lives.

  Nathan paused a moment to consider his situation. He wasn’t a bona fide killer yet – not as an adult, at least – but he knew he’d be just that before the night was over.

  How do you like them apples, Dad? And you always said I’d never amount to anything.

  But everything had to be perfect. Perfect and clean.

  Quietly opening the closet door, he is very careful not to make even the slightest sound as he makes his way to her bedside. The soft glow of the Wonder Woman night light illuminates her sleeping face in the darkness. She really is lovely. So soft. So pretty. So innocent.

  All in all, a delicious little morsel of a mouse.

  Lifting the butcher’s knife over his head, he is ready to plunge it deep into her tender throat when a troubling thought suddenly occurs to him. What if he really did it – really killed the little girl – and the pain was still there?

  He amends his plans quickly and decides to kill his mother and her husband first. If that doesn’t make him feel any better he can always return for his sister later on.

  Reaching down, he softly strokes her silky blonde hair as she sleeps. ‘I’ll be back for you in just a minute, sis. That much you can count on.’